She who runs with scissors

....and other things hazardous to your health like breathing, thinking, attending your day job and attempting to reach the dish on the top shelf, located under the stack of bowls that you refuse to move.

About Me

I've been in the city for two years, bouncing around from one stupid day job to another as I persue writing. At the moment I work with lawyers, who are a special kind of creature, often taking strange things like titles and lawfirm names too seriously. I tend to organize protests and then write about it.

Archives

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Transition

Were to start? There doesn't seem to be a beginning, middle and end these days. Just a bunch of blobs floating around that seem to represent my life. Ever changing shape shifters.

As my prior post mentioned, the Guru and the Princess came, saw, spent money, and left NYC on a bad note. The Guru disagreed with my thoughts on the trip, saying that I had "misjudged" the princess. She was just a little "hesitant" about the "unknown" but it was like a roller coaster ride; she always loved it at the end. Myself and MD are in agreement that we never saw her reach the other side. Just the fear and pessimisom of the ride up. My relationship with the Guru is an ever evolving work in progress. There are times I whish he'd be less "guru" and more "dad". I'm not sure he knows the diffrence.

If you follow Synge's blog at all, you'll surely have head the sad news about her mother. The unexpected nature of all of this hit me pretty hard. The idea that you could walk into the hospital with a headache and leave with a brain tumor is a terrifying prospect. It makes me want to run out and get a full body scan just in case. At least I should probably start with a mamogram, which I have been putting off for sometime. I talked to Synge today, who is without a doubt the rock and glue of that family. She's amazing.

Demolition Derby Continues

On a lighter note, the saga of my ever evolving bathroom continues. Around the time of the Guru and Princess's visit to NYC, I had asked the Singing Landlord to replace my disgusting, peeling, dirty, sorry excuse for a bathtub with something....better. I was tired of standing in rubble and peeling paint to shower and had a feeling it was only a matter of time before the plumming blew up in golden shower of dirty water. The Singing Landlord said "sure, no problem. One week." In contractor talk, everything is a week. Remodeling your home is "one week." Did you ever see the "money pit" The house that fell down? I beleive construction time was "one week."

That was 3 weeks ago. The other weekend I was told that MD and I could move back in, only to walk in on....demolition durby. My deffinition of a "livable enviroment" and the Singing Landlord's are evidently very diffrent. In pure SL2000 style I had a melt down reminiciant of a Judy Garland without her pills. I guess I just wanted to go home. MD took a sobbing SL2000 back to the Upper West Side, which has been my home for the past 3 weeks. Another week of demolition derby continued, but this time I had MD lay the pressure on the Sing Landlord the way only another "dude" can. By Sunday it was ready to clean, which I did all day. It took 4 mopings and some hands and knees scrubing to get that bastard clean. That doesn't include the kitchen, which is full of white drywall dust, and the living room, which has giant boot prints all over the floor from the Sing Landlord's boots. There are times when I wonder if he has any concept of dirt at all. I imagine he must eat and breath dry wall dust to the point were it's all just "air" to him.

This weekend I endevor to finish cleaning the Brooklyn digs, though it appears I've over booked myself 3 times over a few times, so it will have to be done rather quickly on Saturday. My dream of all dreams is to just move back in with MD and be settled in one place....once and for all. At least til we move again in the fall.

Oh, and did I mention I'm planning on quiting the SDJ in July? I just sent in a request to take 2 weeks vaction in July...then I'm going to come back and quit. It will be beautiful. Yet the beginning of another transition.

Sometimes it feels as though transition is the new theme of my life....because there I am..floating around in space, wondering if I will ever feel soild ground again.

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

They came...They saw....They spent money.....

and they tried to poke as many holes in my relationship with MD as they possibly could. Well, the guru did. The Princess just aided and abetted.

The Questions:

"So his family is really blue blood huh?""Did he go to a boarding school for bad kids?""Do you really think the two of you are compatable?""Does he expect to make a living as an actor?""Is the real estate gig how he wants to live his life?""Do you think his family looks down on how you were raised?""Just an observation, but he seems more clingy to you then you are to him."

That last one was really the icing on the shit cake for me.

Lets back up a bit.

The Princess and the Guru, other wise known as my dad and his...girfriend? Who knows what she is, she's married and not to him. Anyway, the guru came up to meet MD and see what my life in the big city was like. That's what I was told, anyway. So I prepared a bunch of excersions to places I thought they make like. The Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, Central Park, Dylan's Candy Store, Serindipity, the usual tourist fare, added in with places I like, such as Williamsburg, Coney Island, the lower east side, etc.

The princess was higher maintance then I expected. There was something wrong with just about everything we did...lets see if I can recap

"The boat to the Statue of Liberty was too crowded""People were rude at the island and shoving""The hotel room is too small (The Algonquin)""There's no where to shop in lower Manhattan""None of the rides on Coney Island are open""The park is too big to walk (east to west)""Williamsberg looks sketchy""My neighboorhood looks 'rough around the edges'""The food here is weird, not what I'm used to, etc.""I don't understand the menu""The wait staff are taking too long"

She was only happy eating chocolate at Sernidipity or spending the Guru's money which she did freely. A trip that was supposed to be a look into my life became about impressing this cold, critical, totaly unavailble woman. I ended up being dragged to Bloomingdales, and Canal Street, following behind the two of them like a shadow. I wondered what the purpose of the Guru's trip to NY really was; to see me, or impress his lady friend?

To give them credit, they did end up liking the food at all the places, and I did see an attempt to engage MD in conversation. But the over all tone of the week long trip really irked me.

I feel like I bent over backwards to accomidate these people and have very little to show for it other than a good case of exhastion and a slight cold.

On the last day, MD took time off to drive them to the airport. We lunched at this wonderful little Italian place in the Lower East Side that specializes in small plates, my favorite way of eating. The Princess and the Guru hardly touched thier food and after awhile MD and I were like "fuck it, we're going to dig in because its good." If you have no opinion about the resturant, then don't get all huffy when you don't like the food.

Granted, MD and I were pushing the drive to the airport a bit. Arriving at 5pm for a 6pm flight is kind of a gamble, but its a gamble New Yorkers seem to take a lot. Traffic was bad, unforseen events such as a miner fender bender occured, and at 5:05 we were still in traffic.

That's when the Guru turned into a cigar smoking daddy warbucks. "We're not going to make this flight, I'll have to find another one." He annouced to a striken MD, who I thought was going to cry. He got on the phone and started balling out some poor flight agent about how he and the Princess can ONLY FLY FIRST CLASS, he simply doesn't fly coach and they must be moved to another first class flight. He's simply too old to run for a plane, and he paid too much money to be treated this way....yada yada.yada....Poor MD's hands were turning white from gripping the steering wheel and I was so car sick from the traffic I was afraid to move for fear I might puke. It was like a really bad sitcome. "But dad, the airline people will walk you to the flight if you call and say you're running late.""I'm too old and paid too much money to run for a flight."

We got them to the airport at 5:20 and at 5:45 the Guru calls to say they are both on the flight, in first class and an agent took them right to the plane.

It was a shitty end to a stressful week.

Did I mention that the Guru thought "The Producors" was to "gay"? I mean christ, those tickets cost MD $300. Its Mel Brooks, what did he expect?!

They mentioned the possibility of coming back, which they are welcome to do. NYC is open to everyone, I however, officially retire from the tour guide buisness. Next time all they get from me is a copy of NFT. I'm done trying to please difficult people.

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

My Big Fat Pile of Money

That's right. I'm loaded. Rich. Packing my bags and off to Burmunda to live in the fashion MD and I could very easily become accustomed to.

Well...maybe not.

The Barracuda called me into her office today....with a sharp tone I assumed was the beging of my "firing file" or a strict talking to about team spirit and neggative body language. (I think a fist in someone's face would be neggative, but aparently my crossed legs and tense arms offend people). Instead, she began with her painful, uncomfortable laughter, the kind no one joins her in, and told me how this is a non-profit and salary caps are at 4% (cheap for a nonprofit) and our fisical year had ended. I had thought we were headed to the we can't affoard to pay you would you work for free, portion when the barracuda told me my work was good, but I needed to show "more enthusiasm" in my work. Be more of a team player. Pitch in more, take on other tasks and be happy about it. She then gave me a 2% raise. 2%. I could smell the money in the air.

I went back to my little cube by the typewriter, printer, carbon printer, fax machine and shreder to work out the math.

2% of my salary is about 560 a year. 560 broken down into 12 months is about $47.00. Divide that into bi weekly paychecks and you have about...$10 extra dollars a check. I could almost buy myself dinner once a week on that. I guess MD gets leftovers....of course after taxes.....

It makes you wonder if that 2% is supposed to be my carrot to work with more "enthusiasm" I mean really, who gives a rat's ass if I'm smiling while I work....do they really need that to feel good about thier jobs?

I digress. Lady Charion (Synge's lady, who I am now seeing) tells me that I can break this cycle by treating these people diffrently. Perhaps looking at them with a little more compasion and realizing its all a game, and no one really likes to play it. She ended our session by asking me if I was getting out of this job soon. MD has suggested I take a 2 week paid vacation (which I have) and then coming back in time to quit. I'm contemplating the suggestion.

On the home front:

MD and I are no longer moving to a new apartment. We decided that in the long run, we could affoard a bigger place in a nicer area if we saved some money and really did our homework on places. He feels that "consolidating" is the way to go.

By consolidating he means apartments. Mainly his. That's right....MD is in the process of moving into my little shack in the middle of the Brooklyn Ghetto. At the moment my living room is more like a bedroom and the kichen is more like a closet. As exciting as this is, its still a bit nerve racking and crazy. MD hasn't been able to take time off to do this, so the moving in process has been in aggonizingly slow stages. My apartment looks like a clothing bomb went off.

I complain, but I love coming home to MD everynight. Its the best feeling.

In Other News....

My "parents" are coming to town.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

MD is really relaxed about it. He's not Ben Stiller and my dad isn't insain...although he is an ex Navy Seal...and the other half of him is coming, the woman he's close friends with and may or may not be his girlfriend of sorts (its too complex to blog about) I'm still sweating bullets over it.

I want him to love MD. Instantly. I want the immediate stamp of approval, which is complicated because I feel like I don't need it and fuck him if he doesn't like MD. That's the complicated parent/child relationship which is even more complicated because I don't relate to my dad like a kid...we've been "pals" for a very long time and function like peers. I had a bizzare childhood, we'll leave it at that. Lady Charion is still sorting through the mess.

I have a week to show the two of them NYC, Brooklyn, MD, and why I love all of these things. I know that my dad and lady friend will love the things I love and be very laid back, because they are. My dad helped me move the the Upper East Side and always saw the good in any situation. But my life is a lot diffrent now and is going in a direction that doesn't involve him as much. I'm building my own life and family and I feel like the old man feels a bit left out....that's why the lady friend is coming.

(For the sake of typing time, we'll call the folks the Guru and Princess)

I don't know why I'm so bent out of shape about the Guru and Princess's arrival. In the end they are too laid back for it to be drama, and I'm the one creating drama. Could be a classic case of world's colliding. My entire life is in transition and the two of them are dropping in with a ton of luguage (Princess doesn't travel light), a map of NYC and list of destinations (Ground 0, the Empire State Building, Statue of Liberty...)

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Stress, blisters, and moving? What is going on?

Its been a strange month so far. Actually, in retrospect, its been a strange year. If you had told me in December that I would have a boyfriend who I was madely in love with, be looking to move in together, planning my future, looking for new jobs and be gaining ground with my writing by April, I would have laughed in your face and offered to eat my shoe.

The shoe wasn't that tastey.

What's that boaring saying? When it rains it pours? Well its true. It's a hurricain, and its all happening at once in the shortest time frame imaginable.

MD and I are planning to move in togther sooner than expected....like July. We are both trying to get out of our leases, while looking for new places, as he tries to balance this intense, all consuming job and I search for new ones.

Enter large stress blister in the middle of my lip.

The reason we are putting ourselves through this is for a couple of reasons:

1.) Commuting back and forth between Brooklyn and the Upper West Side is exhasting. I hate leaving the cat and he finds my apartment too noisey, my bed really only fits me. I can't imagine us doing this for 9 more months2.) My area has become a bit hostile. It could be the shooting that occured next door a few weeks ago, the large groups of restless young men screaming at each other right outside my window; usually at 3am, and the sever lack of police presence at these events. I called my landlord yesterday to inquire about the lease, full of doubt that my area was really THAT bad, when a police car, fire truck and ambulance pulled up outside to investigate a 911 call and some mischief. Point taken, I'm out of there...3.) MD and I love eachother and want to build a life together, the above is our catalyst.

The timing couldn't be worse. I'm tied up in knots over this job search and time for writing, meanwhile I'm feeding off of MD's stress over his job. Yesterday we had a knock down drag out fight over the phone were I was accusing him of wanting to back out, despite him saying the opposite. It appears as though I momentarily mistook him for my ex-boyfriend. Really, it was me yelling because I was stressed out. Moving is hard. Moving in with someone is harder. Moving when you are super busy is what causes lip blisters. My face is breaking out too.

I know a lot of this has to do with my anal need to have a plan. WHEN are we moving, ARE we out of our leases, can I get a sworn afidavidt that it will happen in July? Were will I be working in July? These are all very unsettling things for me.

Friday, April 07, 2006

The Realities of Uniformity

There's something I've come to understand about the left wing movement.

Its made of lots of very diffrent people with very diffrent ideas. And they all believe thier idea is going to save this country. They are deeply passionate about these ideas and if we all just....understood thier vision.....we'd save Democracy.

I was a member of this group in the beginning as well, but perspective has brought me around to see a bigger picture, full of very diffrent, beautiful, colorful people.

Uniformity won't work in America. Why? Because we are a country founded by people who rebelled against uniformity, and we've been rebelling ever since.

I understand the dream though, I can see it my head as well. The image of thousands of people rising up, all wearing orange t-shirts or blue. Or pink. The image of thousands of women dressed as suffragists (in very nice costumes) marching down the street. The image of thousands of people in t-shirts with the same sloagan turning thier backs on Bush during the inanauguration. Its a very theatrical vision, one that is viewed in my mind as an arial shot done by a camera, sometimes theme music swells up in the background.

That's the problem.

These are shots made my movies, not reality. To achieve these images you have to have thousands of people willing to do the same thing, with the same clothing at the same time and perhaps someone flying overhead in a helecopter to get a picture of it. That's art, not neccessarily activism.

The second snag in the plan is that there really isn't just one topic to rally around. The Ukranian Revolution and the Philipino revolution had one very solid target. A governement so corrupt that the daily lives of the people were severly affected. The movie V for Vendetta (I liked it, but go see it yourself to decide)used the idea of an extreamly correput government in England, a true police state in every sense of the word. One centeral, undenaible target.

I don't believe that exists in America. There's just so much to chose from its like a smorgesborg of coruption, and to be honest, my daily life hasn't come to a scretching halt by it. For every person starving in the street, there is someone buying a 1.5 million dollar condo in DUMBO. There is unity, but it exists in small groups.

Besides, there's something beautiful about diversity. About seeing people of all walks of life marching together with thier own banners, taking a creative stand on the issue they care about. That's what the left wing movement is made of, and I think its just as theatrically beautiful as a million people marching in blue t-shirts. The movement still has people in it. As long as there are people who march for a better tomorrow, hope exists.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Musings While at Work.........

Oh SDJ, waster of my time, paycheck I recieve only when chained to a computer, why must you suck the life force out of my brain? How shall I quit you SDJ? Shall it be in a ball of flames, lighting bridges out from under me as I go? Shall I announce it from the top of my desk for the entire office to hear?

"I'm done with you, peace out!" I'd scream.

Perhaps I could lump all of my vacation and sick days together until it totals a month, then come back in time to give my two weeks......

What is up with daylight savings? We don't have this in Arizona, and though I have lived in the east for about 7 years, it is still a shock evertime it happens. I woke up very confused on Sunday, waking MD up (yes, I was at MDs) asking him all these upset, half asleep questions.."does your VCR change audiomatically? Fall back, Spring forward, that sounds right, right? Wait, I think my cell changes on its own, yours doesn't, what time is it, why aren't you awake?"

"Its an hour later, so that makes it 8am. Go back to sleep." MD said.

Which brings me to the topic I wasn't going to blog about....

MD and I have gotten very serious. This is coming from the girl, who, if you scroll down the blog postings you'll see once proclaimed that she would adopt cats and be single forever. The fun aunt who plays with the kids and goes home to her single apartment. I never thought I could earn enough money to pay my rent, or save, or even...invest. That sounds so adult. But something strange happend when I turned 26.

I went crazy.

And suddendly started worrying about the future, about a house and kids and loosing baby weight from the baby I haven't had and babies in general and about doing all this with....MD.

He's it. I know this somehow. It doesn't feel false, although I keep questioning it on his end, despite constant reassurances. We talked about marraige, home, kids, the whole nine yards. We were at a resturant in DUMBO and MD said "why don't we just say it." "Fine." I said. "We talking about getting married someday, aren't we?" MD had a pecular reaction. He got a hard on, felt nausuas and could feel his heart beating all at the same time. I took that to mean it was scary and exciting. I myself felt a bit dizzy. We stayed at the table until he could stand up without embarresment and I could find my feet. It was an interesting evening.

I keep looking for the timeline that tells me this isn't moving too fast, or its moving at good pace at least. Were's the book? How do people know these things? MD and I are talking about buying a townhouse in Brooklyn after my lease is up in February. That feels like a good timeline, we'll have been together a good year by then.

My dad and MD have met via email. The great SL2000 dad is somewhat of a finiancial guru to young investors. He's thrilled to impart this information on his daughter and daughter's boyfriend. MD is working as a realestate broker in the hopes of saving up enough for a downpayment without parental help.

This isn't something I would have thought possible 4 months ago. It seemed like such a far off dream, I didn't think it could ever be real or more than fiction I write. I kept having nightmares that it wasn't real, I was afraid to mention it to anyone for fear it would go away....."what more do I have to say to reassure you?" MD asked. Nothing. The problem lies with me, not him. Hopefully the struggle with my doubt will ease up, and I will be able to enjoy the ride, no matter where it leads me...........

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Corporate Couple and other nightmares

I'm taking a time out from my corporate drugery of creating budget spread sheets (insert gasp of horror here) to write about my slow death crawl into the corporate relm.

I do have an artistic soul, but its been squeeking more than roaring these days...in fact at times I have to give it CPR to keep it alive, the paddles of life which do include blogging.

I fear that my darling MD and I are becoming a corporate power couple.

It could be that everytime we meet up after work, we're both dressed in our uniforms, his neck being choked by a restrictive tie, my toes breaking off in high heels. I'm sure people think we go home to our high rise apartment made of glass were we live miserably ever after. My comfort is him ripping off the button up shirt to revel a CBGBs shirt and me replacing the heels with running shoes as we head back to the ghetto of bed-stye Brooklyn.

I hope we never believe the clothes we wear or take ourselves too seriously.

I have been concerned about his two cell phone habit (a palm pilot and the regular one) and have had to take his toys away from him when he attempts to do something stupid like google while driving. Perhaps some of my concerns come from his new job as a corporate mongral i.e. realestate broker of high end lofts. MD seems to think he will make his fortune doing this and he just might. I'm very proud that he's getting serious about the future, I just wish he wouldn't whip out his portfolio at dinner. Sometimes I wonder if I'm having a meal with my boyfriend or my broker.

But, in the end, I realize that he is an actor and this is just another role he is throwing himself into full force. Will he make millions doing this? Time will tell, I just hope he never looses his perspective on things. The object is not to get as much money as you can, its to live well and live responsibly. The money is just the means and it will come one way or another. I don't have plans to end up in a glass loft in Soho entertaining his corporate clients. A loft in DUMBO might be nice though..........

I on the other hand am trying to get OUT of the corporate pit hole. I interviewed at the ACLU the other day and felt pretty good about thier jeans and t-shirt policy. They told me flat out that I was over qualified for the job, which made me feel pretty good. I have aspirations of making a living wage, and perhaps having my own office, or at least a cubicle near a window. The dream would be to have a job that changes in nature, isn't stagnent typing up documents and budgets but actually ingages my brain and sense of creativity. Wouldn't that be cool? Imagine....not being board shitless at work........

I had a dream the other night that I quit my job here at the SDJ. I think they tried to pile ALL the work on me to which I screamed "I quit you fuckers! followed by many many more choice words and me stomping out. I then went home and cried about not having a job. Somehow I broke my leg in my dream too and couldn't move it, which was distressing. I woke up to find my cat sleeping on my leg. At least she had a good night. I should probably write this stuff down when I wake up, it was much more colorful than I'm describing.....

All these nightmares about work....hopeful things wills sort themselves out soon....